


Don’t Say No, You Can Do’s It

by murderofonerose (atmilliways)



Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: Emotional Constipation, M/M, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, skwistok - Freeform, they're so stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-29 01:39:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18297701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atmilliways/pseuds/murderofonerose
Summary: When Toki let himself in again, there was no way in hell that Skwisgaar was going to tell him he was too tired.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Originally Posted:** Sept 29, 2009 on LiveJournal  
>  **Revised:** May 3, 2018 and March 30, 2019  
>  **Disclaimer:** I own nothing.
> 
> Apparently the original prompt for this story was “secrets.”

When Toki let himself in again, there was no way in hell that Skwisgaar was going to tell him he was too tired. He watched drowsily as Toki shook that evening’s GMILFs and FBLs awake and ordered them out – which meant Skwisgaar probably wouldn’t be getting any sleep for a while. The rhythm guitarist seemed to have a thing for bossing people around.  

By the time Toki’s clothes were in a careless pile on the floor, Skwisgaar felt wide awake with anticipation. His eyes raked over the pale, bare skin that he’d been seeing and touching on a daily, sometimes hourly basis recently and wished vaguely that this part could last a little longer. Toki’s appreciative looks in between arrival and sex felt too brief, and they were always still a little sore from the last time… and the time before that, and the time before that… They were frequently guilty of taking the bare minimum for recovery time, but it was like they couldn’t  _not_.

If he hadn’t been Skwisgaar motherfucking Skwigelf, and Toki hadn’t turned out to be surprisingly insatiable, Skwisgaar probably would have been fine with just… sleeping, sometimes.

Not that he’d ever admit that.

~

Whenever Toki approached Skwisgaar he felt a familiar rush of desperation and sometimes even a little panic mixed in with the arousal. He knew that he had to do a lot to keep the world’s fastest guitarist interested, he knew that... but was he good enough? Was he there often enough to be more than just another body? Was he just Toki yet?

He was slowly becoming aware of every muscle that could possibly be used during sex. All of them ached from overuse, sometimes pleasantly and sometimes not, but he couldn’t afford to rest them for very long. Sometimes he couldn’t help it, though. He’d been weak and fallen asleep, and by the time he reached Skwisgaar’s room there were already some grannies and fatties in there, indulging in the luxury of being able to doze off afterwards. The stakes weren’t as high for them; they didn’t have to live with the guy. 

He waited impatiently for the women to leave, and then hurried to undress and crawled into bed to run his hands over Skwisgaar’s body. His stubby, inadequate fingers always ended up in the same teasing places, coaxing all sorts of obscene nothings to escape the Swede’s mouth, and maybe that could have been enough but Toki knew, because of the ladies he’d just kicked out, that he still had to prove himself. He had to stand out, had to be the best at just one thing, just that one thing… That’s all he wanted.

Not that he’d ever admit that.


	2. Chapter 2

Neither Toki nor Skwisgaar were that great at being subtle, but between not paying much attention and never catching them in the middle of anything their band mates remained oblivious. It wasn’t until Skwisgaar nodded off during a recording session that anyone even noticed one of the signs that something unusual might be going on. 

“SKWISGAAR.” 

He jerked awake and nearly fell off his stool from the force of Nathan’s yell, even through the so-called soundproofing. Cursing inwardly, he forced his features into a sneer and snapped, “Ja, what’s you wants?”

Pickles clicked the talkback mic on. “Dood, you just fell asleep in the middle of yer own solo. What the hell?”

“Oh. Uh…” Skwisgaar had to force himself both to wake up a little more and to not look at Toki, who was sitting by himself on the couch at the back of the recording studio and apparently very involved in playing with a slinky. “Ja, I, uh, didn’ts sleeps so greats last night.”

The frontman and drummer exchanged knowing, exasperated looks.

“Hnn,” Nathan grumbled. "Well, we need to get this done. Go get some coffee or something. Something with caffeine.”

“I’ve got some coke if you want,” Pickles offered, brightening. He was already pulling the baggie out of his pocket, no doubt prepared to cut some lines regardless of anyone wanting to join him or not.

A nap would have been a more welcome suggestion, but whatever. “Sure, okays,” Skwisgaar muttered, and let himself out of the sound booth. He knew that he didn’t sound very enthusiastic and didn’t really care.

“Cool.” Pickles patted his pockets distractedly. “Hey, first person who can find a hundred dollar bill gets the second hit, okie? But if it’s anything less than that, ya get third."

Skwisgaar paused by the couch and glanced at the slinky Toki was still playing with. He found himself staring, zoning out to thoughts of Toki’s hands playing with... other things… “No thanks, I gots somesthings I cans have. I wills be back.”

The metallic  _chink chink chink_  noise the slinky made as it wobbled back and forth grated on his nerves, though, ruining the daydream. He needed some way to get Toki out of the room, and fast.

“What ams that?” Skwisgaar scoffed. “Littles baby toy? Go find something like whats the growns-ups do, baby Toki.”

And then he left quickly, hoping that would do the trick. Maybe it would. Or maybe he should have given more thought to it, but he was just so damn  _tired_.


	3. Chapter 3

Since Skwisgaar’s parts were the last thing they needed to record, Nathan and Pickles declared an official break not long after his departure and wandered off as well. Murderface had already left a while ago anyway, in protest of how much ridicule his playing had received. Toki stayed on the couch for a little while longer, and when he could no longer hear voices echoing down the hallways outside he stood up slowly and dropped the slinky in the trash on his way out. 

He was entertaining vague thoughts of heading for the hot tub when he suddenly found himself being pulled sideways into a closet. The door shut behind him and he was pushed up against it, a familiar presence looming over him in the darkness. Toki knew – had dutifully committed to memory better than he ever had any riff on the guitar – the feel of Skwisgaar’s hands on him, the way it felt when that blonde hair wavered close enough to his skin to sense without actually touching, the smells of the other man’s skin and sweat and favorite kinds of alcohol in varying combination. The suddenness of it froze him in place, too surprised to know how to react.

“Sos, Toki,” the lead guitarist began in a low voice, “I needs to bes more wakesinged up or that track mights never gets records-ded. You cans do somesthing abouts that, ja?”

“Ja,” Toki whispered. He might not have consciously known how to respond, but his body certainly had ideas. 

“Goods…”

The word was like a sigh against his ear, sending shivers along Toki’s spine and smoothing over the sting of the earlier insults. A brush of lips against his earlobe and down to his neck made the momentary terror at being dragged into a closet by sleeve completely worth it. Teeth nipping suddenly and none too gently elicited a gasp, and it struck him that this was the first time Skwisgaar had sought him out for this.

Hurrying to undo the familiar skull-shaped belt buckle, Toki could feel his own body trembling from the effects of quickly building lust. He wanted this enough to ignore it, but the truth of the matter was that he hadn’t gotten much more rest in the past several days than Skwisgaar had. When one of Skwisgaar’s hands slid down the back of his pants and began probing confidently, the breath that caught in Toki’s throat was in equal parts anticipatory pleasure and lingering discomfort.

Eventually – maybe sooner rather than later, at this rate – his physical control would slip and it would start to show in the way he walked and, even worse, how he faced the daunting challenge of sitting down. But for now that was still a secret he could keep, and Skwisgaar was tugging on his shoulder to tell him to turn around…

~

Toki’s skin didn’t taste as bitter as coffee. Maybe it was all the candy he ate, Skwisgaar mused idly as he waited to catch his breath. In a minute or two he’d leave a more pleasant sort of tired. Or maybe three minutes. Or seven.

For what seemed like a long time the only sound in the closet was the two of them breathing, trying to recover, pressed chest to back against the door with their pants around their ankles. Then when Skwisgaar pulled back Toki whimpered at the loss.

Smirking softly in the dark, Skwisgaar leaned back in and ran his fingertips teasingly down Toki’s sides. “Whats you makes noise likes a sads littles puppies for?” he murmured in the younger man’s ear. “I gots to goes back nows and gets the recordings done.”

“You don’ts has to, Skwisgaar,” Toki replied, shivering. “They all left, prosbablies getting drunks or somesthing by nows. You don’ts needs to go back until laters…”

Skwisgaar hesitated. Normally he didn’t let anything distract him from his playing, and Toki was… definitely a distraction, pervasive almost to the point where Skwisgaar didn’t really need his stable sluts anymore. He wasn’t quite ready to part with them yet, but sleep was an acceptable sacrifice – one he would probably go on making over any other until he physically couldn’t anymore, because when had he ever turned down an opportunity for more sex?

Sensing his hesitation, Toki turned around and reached for him in the dark. “I makes it worth yous time…”

That was coming to be a familiar promise, and there was no way in  _hell_  Skwisgaar was going to say no.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s some Swedish in there, courtesy of Google Translate. I apologize for any language-mangling I have committed by using that tool, but what I don’t know about any language besides English is… a lot.

One of the unspoken rules of being obscenely rich and famous – unspoken because it was so obvious that you’d probably have to be dead to not realize it – was Nothing In Moderation. 

Toki took that rule at its word until one afternoon, after Skwisgaar had pulled his clothes back on and left to practice or have a late lunch or something, when he discovered that it hurt to get up. Not that this hadn’t been generally true since the first time he and Skwisgaar had had sex, but this was worse. This was pain just beyond the highest level he could tolerate.

Somehow he’d been hoping that he’d wake up one day and the constant soreness would be gone, clean slate, ready to start all over again. And that might have happened, if they’d ever taken more time for rest in between. 

He stayed as still as he could, face-down on the mattress for over an hour. It didn’t help; he still felt like he was attached to a spit and being slow-roasted over the fires of hell. Finally, eyes watering from the effort and biting down so hard on his lip that he drew blood, Toki half crawled, half dragged himself to the edge of the bed and managed to extract his dethphone from the pocket of his discarded pants.

“Mister managers… um, Charleses? I can’ts… I don’ts feels so good…”


	5. Chapter 5

Skwisgaar stormed into the cavernous dining room muttering an angry string of  _fucks fucks fucks_  under his breath. There were little red splotches up and down his arms from where he’d been pinching himself every few minutes to stay awake, because he hadn’t been able to find Toki all damn day! 

Okay, well, for the past several hours, but when he couldn’t sit down to practice on his guitar without immediately starting to doze off, several hours was a long time.

The others had already started eating dinner, which he had expected, but Toki wasn’t there either. Where the hell was he?

Skwisgaar sat down – a little gingerly, because even being well-conditioned to lots of sex didn’t mean it wouldn’t take its toll on him eventually – and irritably barked out some orders to a nearby Klokateer, having no interest in what his bandmates were eating. Turkey, again. It was like they had no fucking imagination.

Murderface looked up from idly stabbing the tabletop while he picked at his food. “You’re late, Schkwischgaar,” he commented snidely, even though there was no set dinner time at Mordhaus and they didn’t all eat together half the time anyway.

“No, I gots here eskactklies whens I means to,” Skwisgaar retorted with a glare.

“Hey man, I’m jusht schaying. Both you and Toki are late. Why  _isch_  that?”

Skwisgaar’s eyes narrowed. He knew that Murderface was just being a dick and couldn’t possibly be suggesting anything on purpose, but a sharp reply fell out of his mouth anyway. “I don’t knows where Tokis ams! Why the fucks you treats me like I ams the babys-skitter ofs that dumbs dildo?”

It seemed ludicrous to act as though a grown man who’d put his mouth so many places on Skwisgaar’s body need any kind of babysitter at all. Fucking Odin, _where was Toki?_

Pickles raised a pierced eyebrow at the outburst. “Dood, what’re you so defensive about? I thought you’n Toki were hanging out more recently’r something. You’ve been goin’ off places a lot…”

Before Skwisgaar had a chance to come up with a response to that, his food arrived. Or someone’s food arrived, anyway. Skwisgaar stared at the bowl of brightly colored cereal in front of him for a moment in blank confusion, then at the klokateer who’d brought it.

“Uh… what’s the fucks ams this?”

“Fruity Pebbles and two percent milk,” the hooded servant replied. “Not soggy, just like you ordered it, sir.”

“I didn’t orders that,” Skwisgaar protested, honestly baffled. At the moment he couldn’t recall what he had ordered, but he was pretty sure it couldn’t have been that. There was probably enough sugar and lactose in that to make him sick. “Yous sure Tokis didn’ts orders it?”

“Yeah, that’s what you ordered,” Nathan rumbled from his corner of the table, sounding bored. “And Toki isn’t—” The harsh ringtone of a nearby dethphone started going off, and he frowned. “Hang on, I think I’m getting a call.”

Murderface picked up where the frontman had left off. “Toki’sh not here, dildobrain, we juscht schaid that.”

“Ja, wells… whatsever.” Absently, Skwisgaar picked up a spoon and started eating the cereal. His arms hurt from pinching them to stay awake. Maybe sugar would help.

“Skwisgaar…” Pickles cleared his throat awkwardly. “Not that I care or anything, but what the hell is wrong with you? Because I gotta be honest, if there’s something going on I sure as hell don’t wanna find out about it at the next show when you fall asleep on stage or something. That’s worse than passing out drunk, dood.”

“Whisch you’ve done,” Murderface added.

Pickles rolled his eyes. “We’ve _all_  done it, Murderface."

The sugar wasn’t helping. And eating something rainbow-colored couldn’t be healthy, could it?

Skwisgaar put his spoon down. He was vaguely aware of Nathan turning away in his chair to talk on the phone. ( _“Oh. Why? … That’s stupid. Why not? … Fine, whatever. … Yeah, they’re here. … Uh, sure. I mean, I’m kind of hung over, but sure…”_ ) He was less clear on what Pickles was going on about. There wasn’t anything wrong with him, he was just a little tired.

He decided it was probably best to just ignore the problem.

“Hey. Guys.” Nathan dropped his phone loudly on the table for emphasis. “Offdensen just called me.”

Murderface groaned. “Schit, what’sh that robot want from usch now! We jusht finisched recording the new shtuff, ischn’t that enough?”

“He didn’t want anything. He says Toki’s going to be gone for a little while.”

At the word gone, Skwisgaar started in his chair so violently that he almost fell out of it. “ _Whats_?!” Everyone winced from his sudden volume, but he didn’t even notice. “Whys?!”

“I don’t know, he’s in the hospital or something. Charles didn’t say what for,” Nathan replied, scowling at his lead guitarist. “Calm the fuck down.”

“You don’ts even knows? What the fucks—” Skwisgaar tried to stand up, but the sudden exertion made his head swim a bit so he sat back down, pounding a fist weakly against the table in what for all the world looked like anger but was really just shock. “Varför frågade du inte honom då?”* he continued, not even registering that he was no longer speaking English. “Fuck, det här är viktigt! Vilken typ av moron går bara till sjukhuset utan att ens berätta för varför? Du ska berätta för folket dessa saker så att de inte vandrar runt utan att veta vart du gick...”**

They were all staring at him, but something very distracting was going on in his peripheral vision. He frowned.

“Vad är det som blinkar ljuset? Är någon som tar bilder…?”***

And with that he passed out and fell face-first into his cereal bowl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * - “Then why didn’t you ask him?”
> 
> ** - “Fuck, this is important! What kind of a moron just goes to the hospital without even telling anyone why? You're supposed to tell people these things so they don’t wander around not knowing where the fuck you went…"
> 
> *** - “What's that flashing light? Is someone taking pictures...?”


	6. Chapter 6

Toki watched with mixed feelings as Offdensen hung up and returned the cell phone to his suit jacket pocket. On one hand he was grateful to the manager for keeping this quiet, even from the guys – just the mention of a hospital visit for “a few routine tests, nothing serious,” and he’d hurt himself a couple of times before from working out too much so maybe no one would question it. Maybe. 

 

On the other hand, he regretted breaking down and asking for help, because now he would have to explain to the CFO why he needed it. Was that really such a good price for discretion? It was hard to tell, because the pain meds were making his head feel a little fuzzy.

“All right, I’ve done everything I can,” Charles said. “Now…”

“I don’ts wants to talks about it.”

Charles sighed. “Toki, I thought we had a deal. And considering the… compromising situation I found you in, I think it’s best that I know what’s going on in case any further action needs to be taken.”

“What’s so comps-prorisings abouts it?” he asked stubbornly. “I was ins my owns beds and everysthing. There’s nothings illesgals abouts that, right?”

“No. No, there isn’t, but that doesn’t mean that whatever happened there was in your best interest. I would think the fact that it put you in the hospital is sufficient proof that it wasn’t.”

Toki looked away uncomfortably. Of course he knew that pain was bad, and that doing things that caused it were supposed to be avoided – those were lessons that had been drilled into him repeatedly all through his childhood and early adolescence. He’d thought that finally being an adult meant he could do whatever he wanted, but clearly that wasn’t true, because if it was he wouldn’t be stuck here having this awkward conversation.

“It wasn’ts on porpoise…”

He didn’t know how to explain this. Or if he even wanted to. And yet, he knew that Offdensen would pull it out of him, bit by bit. Patiently, because it was his job to, among other things, minimize the number of emergency trips to the hospital as much as possible.

“I understand that, Toki. Just tell me who it was and I’ll take care of it.”

Toki blinked, confused. “Why you says it likes that? That’s like you says whats whens you makes peoples leaves us alones and we’s never hears froms thems agains, evers…”

“Well yes. That’s the general idea, yes.”

“Buts… I don’ts wants to hears from Skwisgaar nevers evers agains…”

And the small hospital room was suddenly, awkwardly quiet.

~

None of them were quite sure how to react to the fallen Swede’s dramatic performance. Then Pickles, sounding a little impressed in spite of himself, asked, “Did he just go crazy and fall asleep?”

“Yeah, he kind of did,” Nathan replied quickly. For a second there he’d felt the faintest stirrings of concern, and that, according to the bylaws of certain band agreements, was definitely not allowed. It was a relief to have something else to latch onto. “Hey… were you quoting that show with guns in space just now?”

Pickles smirked. “Yeeah.”

“Huh. Cool. Maybe we should buy that network that was making it and, you know, get them to make more. Those space cannibals were pretty brutal.”

On the other side of the table, Murderface reached purposefully to his left and pulled Skwisgaar out of the bowl of cereal by his hair. “Hey dickweedsh,” he said scornfully, “I juscht schaved the world’sh fashtescht guitarisht from drowning. Don’t thank me or anything, a real hero doeschn’t  _need_  that kind of validation.”

The rough tugging snapped Skwisgaar awake almost instantly, spitting Fruity Pebbles and blinking milk out of his eyes. “Pffff— What the fucks, Morderface!”

Murderface released him with a jerk, scowling both at the ingratitude and the general lack of praise for his heroic, obviously nigh on Herculean efforts. “You’re all a bunsch of dicksh,” he muttered.

Skwisgaar grabbed a napkin to mop the milk and bits of cereal off his face, furious both with himself for slipping up like that and with the other three for being there to witness it. And at the back of his head for hurting so damn much where Murderface had been pulling on his hair, but at least that would keep probably keep him from passing out again. Maybe.

“Fucks this, I’ms goings back to mines room!” He stood up and threw the damp napkin into the still mostly full cereal bowl. “And there’s betters be a lady when I gets there,” he snapped at all the Klokateers within earshot, “or I makes sures nones of you don’ts gots no more jobs! Or lives!!”

If Toki was too busy at some dumb dildos hospital thing then  _fine_ , he thought as he stormed out, he’d just get sex from someone else. It was such a simple solution, why hadn’t he just done that before…

~

“Skwisgaar,” Charles repeated slowly.

Toki winced. He hadn’t meant to say that – wasn’t even sure if talking about this was allowed, because of course he and Skwisgaar had never discussed it – but now the cat was out of the bag, clawing all the furniture, and peeing in all the shoes.

“Ja… Um, don’ts tells him that I tolds you, okays?”

It was none of the butler’s business anyway. If Skwisgaar found out he’d told and decided to be angry about it, he might very well order Toki out of his bed for good. And then all of that effort to be available for anything at any time would be wasted, worthless…

But, he realized with a sinking, twisting feeling in his stomach, that might happen anyway. Even though the hospital was on Mordland grounds, there were plenty of able and willing groupies that Skwisgaar didn’t even have to leave the haus to sleep with. Toki knew he still did, anyway.

Something of his inner turmoil must have showed on his face, because Offdensen suddenly seemed even more uncomfortable. “Of course not.”

“I don’ts…” Toki bit his lip. “I don’ts knows if this is bads to says. It ams nots likes we’s togethers or anythings. He ams still Skwisgaar, still gots the sluts and still tells me I’s dildos… But we fucks a lots, recentlies.”

“So this is a, ah, new development?”

“The sexes, ja.” Not the way Skwisgaar could make him boil on the inside, though. That was old, something that had always underscored the animosity between him and the older guitarist for as long as they’d known each other. At first he’d thought it was just jealousy over the man’s musical talent, or maybe, _possibly_  a tiny bit of hero worship… Not that he was going to go into those details with the robot, of all people. “I goes to hims and tells him I wants it, and he says that he ams not surpriseds and then he givesed its to me. So we starts doing thats.”

“Uh-huh. And that’s how you ended up here.”

Toki nodded and looked down at his hands.  _Stupids fingers what can’ts plays the notes goods enoughs_ , he thought sadly.  _The rests of me ams nots anys betster._

“Ja, I can’ts keeps up. I tries, though… but it’s hards…” He closed his eyes, because he was dangerously close to crying over his inabilities and the drugs were only making it harder to hold in.

He didn’t want to talk or think about this anymore, he just wanted to float away in the haze of pain medication and not have to dread the possibility of losing his outlet for his only feelings towards Skwisgaar that weren’t purely angry or childish. Maybe a little drink would help too, if he could get his hands on something, but he didn’t know where they would keep the drinking alcohol in a hospital.

Charles cleared his throat. “Well. You should probably… think about that, then.” He was already edging towards the door. “I’ll just leave you to it.”

“Thanks,” Toki replied miserably. “I thinks I’s gonna tries to gets some sleeps, though. I hasvesn’t beens gettings a lots of that recentlies.”

“…Okay.”

Toki had never seen someone flee in such a calm, orderly manner before.


	7. Chapter 7

Skwisgaar sank into nameless flesh, and at first it was such a relief. But it wasn’t quite right, he wanted to feel— And the roll of her hips was so ludicrously slow that he wondered if there was any real passion behind it at all. 

It was really distracting to fucking, but he couldn’t stop himself from thinking.

Toki wasn’t this soft, in any way. Toki didn’t smell like perfume that had spent the past twenty years aging in a bottle. Toki wasn’t passive, Toki wouldn’t hesitate to need and demand, Toki would never fail to meet him thrust for thrust, groan for groan, shudder for shudder in the indelible rhythm that was somehow yet another stops copies me argument.

Toki…

When his body was finally spent, it was more out of habit than anything else and it wasn’t really a good thing… just draining. Skwisgaar told the woman to leave and then stared blankly up at his bedroom ceiling, contemplating the most disappointing sex he had ever had in his life.

He knew that he should sleep, because he was exhausted and there wasn’t really anything to stay awake for at the moment. But before he knew what he was doing his clothes were back on and he was heading for the hospital.

It wasn’t hard to find Toki’s room; there were plenty of hooded servants to point the way.

“What’s you doings in heres, huh?” he demanded of the younger guitarist without preamble as soon as he entered. “What ams so imsportants thats you just diskapears?”

Toki blinked at him, looking half asleep even though he hadn’t been the one staying up all the time to maintain a reputation as a sex idol. Skwisgaar tried to ignore the flood of relief at seeing him. This was not the time. He was  _angry_ , damn it!

“See, this rights here ams eks-actiklies whys I prefers the sleepings around,” he continued, advancing on the hospital bed. He was vaguely aware that Toki would have no idea what ‘this’ was, but that seemed like an unimportant detail. “The ways it am used to bes I coulds have not evens to notice the difference between whens I haves sex with this persons or thats persons. There was varies-ache-tions, ja, and always the differsence betweens a goods lay and a bads one, but now there ams this… this being used to havings something whats am familiars and I can’ts stop with compairsing this to that alls the times now, even whens I don’ts wants to!” 

Skwisgaar was gripping the short railing at the foot of the bed now and meeting Toki’s drowsy, bewildered gaze with eyes sunken and bloodshot from sleep deprivation. He knew that about his own appearance, but did Toki? Had the younger man even bothered to look, to notice? The grip Skwisgaar had on the railing tightened to the point of white knuckles and creaking plastic.

“This ams whats you dids, so I hopes you’s happies now.”

Toki continued to blink at him. “Skwisgaar?” he mumbled eventually. “You’s here? I don’ts knows… whats I does… They gives me the pain drugs so that goes away…”

“What’s you ams talskings abouts?” Skwisgaar snapped, frustrated. His peripheral vision was starting to sputter and flash again; it seemed to him that Toki was physically shrinking without going anywhere and receding into the distance at the same time. “Tokis?”

When he got no answer, he swatted at the shape of feet underneath the sterile white sheets.

“Toki!”

… Oh, that just wasn’t  _fair_. Skwisgaar felt his face heat up with something that wasn’t quite anger as he moved around the side of the bed to double-check that Toki’s eyes were closed. He wasn’t entirely sure he could trust his own anymore – it felt like they were in the process of being sucked back into his skull.

“F-fucks you,” he whispered, cringing inwardly at the way it sounded but knowing that he was the only one to hear it. Being, in a sense, alone in the room and feeling as shitty as he did right at that moment was both a reprieve and absolutely terrifying. “You’s ams nots the onlies ones who cans gets to sleeps the fastest. Treats me just likes a sluts, and I… I shows you, you dumbs dildo…”

Shaking, he clambered onto the bed and fell asleep before he even knew where his body had landed.

~

Waking up involved crawling out of a particularly nice dream, and Toki didn’t want to. The dream had something to do with Skwisgaar being with him – him and no one else – and asking for nothing. Well, after some yelling that could have meant anything, but still.

He’d also dreamt about sheep walking around with no head and mimes eating pie, so he was surprised to realize that Skwisgaar really was there, curled tightly against him above the covers and breathing warmly against the crook of his neck. One leg over his, but only across his calf as if in unconscious afterthought. Hands on him but only curled at his shoulder because of the way the Swede’s arms were resting against his, pressed tight to Skwisgaar’s chest, lacking the space between them to fall anywhere else.

For a moment, Toki didn’t breathe for fear of waking himself up for real. But when he finally did, and his chest heaved from the effort of taking in enough new air to cope with the surprise, it didn’t seem to make a difference. Skwisgaar was still there. His face was still hidden behind a curtain of blonde hair that maybe, in a minute or two, Toki might dare to touch.

When he did reach over his other hand, the effort reminded him that he’d woken up in the first place was because the pain medication was wearing off. Biting his lip, he ran his fingertips lightly over Skwisgaar’s hair, testing to see if  _that_  would wake him up.

It didn’t.

Toki wanted so badly to know why Skwisgaar was there. Had that been explained, or was that vague memory part of the crazy dreams? But Toki also wanted, as his fingers smoothed over golden hair, to just enjoy the fact that he was. He wanted more painkillers, and possibly another nap, but he wasn’t ready to press the call button for someone to bring it to him yet because that would probably wake Skwisgaar up and… Toki had no idea what would happen then. Likely either yelling or sex – though for them there didn’t seem to be that much of a difference, sometimes.

His fingers slid more deeply into Skwisgaar’s hair to no reaction and combed through it idly, if at a kind of awkward angle, and that was a good feeling. Everything he could touch was for the moment his alone, and there was nothing any of the groupies and sluts and old ladies in the world could do about it.

He wanted to know what was going on, what the rules for this were supposed to be, but he didn’t want to have to  _talk_  about it. If they did that it would just make one or both of them feel like ladies… with lady problems… wanting reassurance and a relationship and  _I love you_ ’s and all that shit… and that would just ruin it. But if asking how not to fuck things up would just fuck things up, how was he supposed to know what to do?

So Toki waited, drowsy and increasingly sore, until he didn’t have much choice anymore.

“Skwisgaar?” he whispered. He couldn’t even see the other man’s face, but just the thought of rolling onto his side to do so was unpleasant. “Skwisgaar, don’ts be mads… but I gots to haves the doctor guy brings more medicines now, so you should probsablies wakes up…”

He waited for Skwisgaar to stir and grumble at him to shut up, or something. Even after all this time, Toki didn’t know if he was the kind of person who woke up gradually or suddenly or loudly or quietly. After several minutes, though, he realized that no one woke up  _that_  slowly.

“Uh, Skwisgaar? Come on, sleepies face, wakes up…”

But there was no reaction, not even when he kept raising his voice. A jolt of panic shot through him, and he forced himself to sit up and push the curtain of blonde hair away to look at Skiwsgaar’s face…  _Oh fucks oh fucks oh fucks_  ran though Toki’s head in an endless loop as he took in the proud, handsome features that looked exhausted and sunken even in sleep, and when the hell had that happened?

_Oh fucks, not agains._ Just like the little girl, and the piano teacher, and his father, and anyone else he ever loved.  _Oh fucks oh fucks…_

Nurses and doctors burst into the room, because he was screaming at the top of his lungs, and Skwisgaar  _still_  wasn’t waking up.

~

As soon as a team of physicians was able to assure Charles that Dethklok’s lead guitarist was just very deeply asleep and not in some sort of coma, he indulged in a small sigh of relief... and then quietly ordered a complete lockdown of all gates in and out of Mordland. If what he suspected had happened got out in any raw or speculative form it would be a PR mess.

He would just have to wait for Skwisgaar to wake up and hear his side of the story. Not that even that wouldn’t be like pulling teeth. But Charles didn’t dare tell the rest of the band what little he knew until he had a better idea of the situation as a whole, because they generally didn’t deal well with open-ended problems.

Until then Nathan, Pickles, and Murderface would be kept in the dark as much as possible, Toki would continue to be sedated to keep him from having another episode, and Charles would barricade himself in an empty hospital room turned temporary office and continue to deal rationally with all the other work that still needed to be dealt with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This special, extra dramatic episode of Sex Sent Me To The ER was brought to you by little_murmaider insisting that I resurrect it off of LiveJournal and, so far fruitlessly, that I write a sequel.


End file.
